The Headmaster's Office
by DrainBamage
Summary: When Slughorn's early retirement means a new faculty member, Harry is faced with a few more life choices than he thought he'd be encountering 10 years after the war. His once happy life has already been shifted, does he really want another change?
1. Prologue

**Warnings: **This story is eventually going to be slash/yaoi/boyxboy. If you don't like, then don't read.

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Harry Potter, do you think I'd be worried about paying my college tuition? No, therefore, I must not own it.

The Headmaster's Office. Prologue.

"And be sure to read over the Unforgivables over break! I want you all to be familiar with them when we return." Harry gave a pointed look at the Gryffindor students as they tumbled out of his class, chatting excitedly and ignoring him in their haste to leave the last class of the day. One of the Ravenclaw boys waved quickly, shouting a farewell, before joining the mass of students in the Hall.

Sighing and rubbing a hand tiredly over his face, Harry turned to the chalk covered blackboard, muttering a quick spell and vanishing the mass of notes scribbled across it. It had been a long day, for him and probably every other professor at Hogwarts. Being the last day before the Christmas holidays, almost every student was distracted and looking forward to the end of the day and the train ride home. Trying to teach today was like trying to convince Hagrid Aragog had been a terrifying beast; near impossible.

Running a hand through his tangle of black hair, Harry picked up the most recent batch of essays and, taking one last look over the Defense classroom, walked out the door with slightly less gusto than his students had when leaving. As he walked down the corridor, he nodded to a few students who waved and, while passing the Transfigurations class, saw Hermione emerging, talking with one of the seventh years. He smiled when she caught sight of him and nodded, wrapping up her conversation and waving goodbye as the boy walked over to join his friends.

"You know," Harry said, as he and Hermione began to walk towards the staff lounge, falling into their usual step. "You should really stop leading them on like that, one day they might actually try something."

Hermione glared at him, though there was obvious amusement in her eyes. "I could say the same about you, Mr. Potter," she said, raising an eyebrow. This was their typical banter, knowing none of it true but still enjoying the friendly teasing. "You're just jealous I got to have mature seventh years for my last class while you had to deal with fourteen year olds at the end of the day."

"I swear we were never that troublesome when we were that age," Harry said, shaking his head as they walked into the brightly lit staff lounge. Hermione sat down in one of the large arm chairs while Harry flopped down heavily onto the soft couch.

"I'd say we were worse," Hermione said, grinning. Harry grinned back. She was probably right, what with the amount of trouble they had had in their fourth year, the Triwizard Tournament and all.

"All faculty please report to the staff lounge," the magically amplified voice of the Headmistress boomed through the castle. "All faculty report to the staff lounge."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other. Harry raised an eyebrow and Hermione shrugged. They were already in the staff lounge, so not much else to do, really. "How's Ron?" Harry asked, absently flipping through his stack of essays.

"He's doing fine," Hermione said, standing up and walking over to the tea cart by the fireplace and pouring herself a cup. "Still keeping up things at the Auror Department. Seems Kingsley might promote him soon if he keeps up."

"That's good," Harry said, smiling as Hermione returned to her chair and a few professors entered the room. Harry grinned as Neville, a bit of mud still smeared across his face, came and sat down next to him, followed by Edmund Kipton, who looked tired and worn.

"How'd the last classes go?" Harry asked them both as they sank down next to him. Neville grinned while Edmund buried his head in his hands with a heaving sigh.

"Quite well, actually," Neville said. "We've got a good Mandrake crop this year. Though I can't say the same for the fifth year's." Edmund groaned again.

"I swear," Edmund said, face still buried in his hands. "I've never seen a group of students so adept at blowing things up in my life." Harry and Neville laughed while Hermione hid a chuckle in her tea cup. "How you can set half the desk on fire with a simple color change charm is beyond me, but somehow that group of Gryffindor's manage it. I don't think the rooms going to last till the end of the year."

"You should seem them in Defense," Harry said, nodding to Edmund. "I haven't seen kids so good at dueling since the DA." Harry winced. "Though I wish they'd keep from trying to surprise me all the time."

They all laughed just as the rest of the staff trickled in, chatting quietly and looking exhausted. Finally, McGonnegal came through the doors and everyone fell silent. As impressive and authoritative as ever, McGonnegal firmly shut the door behind her and stood before the rest of the staff, her sharp eyes sweeping the occupants and doing a fast head count. "I imagine you'll all be curious as to why I've called you before the holidays," she said, smartly. Without waiting for a response (which wasn't coming anyway) she pressed on. "I have a few things of importance to tell you all before we resume classes after the holidays."

Hermione perked up next to Harry and Neville stopped surreptitiously trying to clean the dirt from under his fingernails.

McGonnegal eyed them all for a moment of dramatic effect before continuing. "Following the end of the holidays we will be experiencing a shift in positions. Due to recent health concerns, Professor Slughorn has informed me he can no longer fulfill his duties as teacher here and has given me a rather abrupt resignation." She seemed extremely annoyed at the fact, as her mouth went very thin and her eyes flashed.

Harry and Hermione glanced at each other. Slughorn had, after the war, decided to resume his teaching post for some reason unknown to them. Harry had a feeling it was because he felt he owed something to Dumbledore before the previous headmasters death. At the beginning of this year, Harry had noticed the aged man had looked extremely worn and fading, truly showing his age. Through the year, he had made a few trips to St. Mungo's and the students had begun to ask if something was seriously wrong. Apparently there was.

Where, when as students, the people gathered in the room would have immediately pressed the Headmistress for information about the missing professor, the room remained silent, taking in the news quietly and calmly. McGonnegal continued.

"I am telling you this because I want to let you know ahead of time that we will be having a new member joining our faculty at the end of the holidays," McGonnegal gave a quick look at all of them. "I expect all of you to treat them with respect and courtesy." She looked over at Harry, Hermione, and Neville, who looked back, slightly confused. "I would also like for everyone to keep rather quiet about this. I don't need the news of Slughorn's absence to spread before he has a chance to recover at least slightly." She paused and looked everyone over again. "I also want you all to be informed of another staff change." She paused again. "I, as you well know, am getting on in years. I have decided that this is my last year here as Headmistress and will be retiring come June and naming my successor with the approval of the School Governors."

Every face in the lounge flashed, surprise being the most prevalent of expressions, though shock and disbelief were also present.

"I would also like this small fact to be kept quiet until I make a formal announcement at the end of the year," the Headmistress continued, not paying attention to the response to her previous statement. "I wish you all a Happy Christmas and will see you all back here the day before term resumes. Good evening." She turned and swept from the room.

As soon as she left, the teachers gathered in the room began either quietly talking or making their way to leave, or both. Harry turned to Hermione, grinning widely. "Bet I can guess the new Headmistress," he said, grinning widely.

Hermione smacked him across the shoulder and Neville laughed.

A/N:In case people are wondering why I'm putting this up before I finish To Dance, it's because I've been having some writer's block and decided I needed to do something to get my mind out of a rut. Hence, this. Let me know if you want me to keep going!

-Kajit


	2. And a Garden Gnome in a Pear Tree

**Disclaimer: **__** I do not own Harry Potter. I make no money from this in any way shape or form. I just derive pleasure from the twisted stories and such my mind makes up. If I did own it, Harry would have never married Ginny and would have done things to make Mrs. Weasley pass out from shock. **

_Italics: Flashbacks._

The Headmaster's Office.

Chapter 1: "And A Garden Gnome in a Pear Tree"

"_I don't know what to do anymore."_

_"What are you on about, mate?"_

_Harry sighed, looking up at his best friend. "I feel like a terrible husband."_

_Ron laughed, giving Harry a disbelieving look. "What do you mean? You and Ginny are great. I don't see what's got you bothered."_

_Harry stood up, running a hand through his hair, as began pacing the room. "I know it seems that way but sometimes I just don't know." Ron gave him an inquisitive look. "She's just been acting really distant lately. We'll be home for hours at a time and just don't talk." Ron frowned. "I mean, I try to say something, but it's like talking to a wall. I don't know what to do."_

_"Harry, c'mon mate, Hermione and I do that all the time," Ron said, trying to sound reassuring. _

_Harry paused in his walking. "That's because Hermione's got her nose in her books, grading papers, or changing diapers." Ron rolled his eyes. "I'm talking about me getting home and us just doing nothing. Sure, we'll take care of James and Albus, but it's not the same anymore."_

_Ron was looking at him concerned. "Have you tried talking to Gin?"_

_Harry threw up his hands and resumed his pacing. "That's just it! I can't seem to talk to her!" He threw himself down on the couch. "It's like every time I try to get something out, she finds something else to do! It's like she can't stand me around anymore!"_

_Ron scowled at him. "Harry, I'm sure you're overreacting. She's probably just tired from taking care of the boys."_

_"But she doesn't!" Harry half yelled, feeling frustrated. "Mottle takes care of the boys most of the time and when I get home I'm usually the one changing diapers and getting them into bed! I'm worn from Hogwarts all day and barely have a moment to rest with the boys. It's not like we take care of the boys together, it's like we take these weird shifts in our sons lives!"_

_Ron was frowning deeply at him. "So you're saying my sister's a bad mother?"_

_Harry ran a hand over his face. If there was one time he needed Ron to not be the big brother, it was now. "No, I'm just saying there's something wrong with us." He paused. "And I don't know how to fix it."_

"Master isn't listening! Master needs to properly finish his breakfast!"

"Mottle, I swear, I'm fine. Please, I just need to get to the Burrow."

"Will Master finish his toast?"

Harry sighed exasperatedly. It seemed that he never got anywhere in arguments these days. It had been Ginny's idea to get a house elf when they had been married, to help with the housework of keeping up Grimmauld Place while the two of them worked. Of course, Mottle hadn't left since and had developed a somewhat Mrs. Weasley attitude since the divorce and Harry often found himself being told to add an extra layer of clothing or finish his supper properly. Like now, where Mottle was refusing to let him go to the Burrow unless he ate more breakfast.

"Mottle, I'm a fully grown man." Mottle blinked her almond shaped eyes at him. "I can take care of myself."

"I is just doing my best to be taking care of Master," Mottle said, holding up Harry's bag and coat. "Mottle worries that Master is getting too thin again. Like when Miss Ginerva had to leave."

Harry gave up, knowing he had lost as soon as Mottle had brought up Ginny. The topic always made Harry give up. Giving Mottle a pointed look, he took his last piece of toast and shoving it in his mouth. The house elf nodded happily, grinning widely, her long ears flapping. "Now may I go to the Burrow?" Mottle held up his coat and his bag.

"Give the Weasleys and kids Mottle's regards," Mottle said, smiling gently as Harry took the items.

He grinned down at the elf kindly. "I will." Throwing on his coat hastily and picking up the heavily packed bag, Harry walked to the front door, opened it and waved a last goodbye to Mottle, before striding out into the crisp December air. As soon as he reached the gate of Number 12, he checked up and down the street, and apparated to the Burrow.

Since his first apparition with Dumbledore all those years ago, he had improved immensely. Though today he didn't do quite as well as usual, seeing as he had apparated right into a rather substantial snow drift. Frowning and shaking his legs to rid them of snow, he strode up the pathway to the Burrow, a few stray snowflakes drifting around him. Grinning at the warm glow through the windows and festive evergreen wreath on the door, Harry knocked. He could hear a jumble of voices inside and immediately recognized Mrs. Weasley's among them.

"Oh goodness gracious!" Harry heard the muffled voice of Mrs. Weasley say from just inside. "That must be Harry! Ron! Get the door would you!"

There was a great deal of thumping and more jumbled voices before the door was suddenly wrenched open to reveal Harry's long time best friend Ron Weasley in all his red haired glory. "What are you doing standing out there for!" Ron yelled, happily grabbing Harry by the shoulder and dragging him inside. "Come in and join the festivities!"

Almost immediately Harry found himself surrounded by people. He had barely had time to put down his bag before he was swept up into a huge hug from Hermione and Fleur. Ron next officially clapped him on the back and gave him the typical 'man hug' as he had named it. Arthur hugged him jovially while Bill and Charlie clapped hands happily. George shook his hand jovially afterwards which Harry inspected for abnormalities. Finally Mrs. Weasley, her hands covered in flour and a bit of what looked like chocolate smeared across her nose grabbed him in an extremely enthusiastic hug, all the while telling him he was too thin and telling him to take third helpings. Harry grinned happily the whole time, feeling that this Christmas might be the best he had encountered so far.

When everyone had seemed to finish their initial greetings and he had caught his breath, Harry turned to Hermione and Ron. "Where are the kids?"

Hermione smiled softly, Ron's arm around her waist comfortably. "In the living room with Ginny."

"Probably asking if they can open presents yet," Bill said, grinning from next to Fleur, who was arguing with Mrs. Weasley about how much sugar she had put into the Christmas pies. They seemed to have the same argument every year. It had developed into a strange sort of tradition.

Harry laughed. "Well, I suppose they wont mind a few more to the pile then," he said, picking up the bag he had brought with him. "I couldn't get them here ahead of time, so I hope bringing them now is alright."

"Oh Harry, don't worry about that," Mrs. Weasley chided warmly, breaking from her argument with Fleur. "Just go on in. They've all been wondering when you'll show up."

Harry grinned at her and followed Ron and Hermione into the living room. he had barely caught a glimpse of a tall and handsome christmas tree, decorated with tinsel, floating candles, and red baubles before several small objects barreled into his stomach, knocking him to the ground, all yelled excitedly.

"Dad! Dad!"

"Uncle Harry!"

"Daddy!"

Grinning and looking down at his stomach through skewed glasses, Harry saw five small faces beaming up at him, all with arms clasped firmly about his middle. Laughing, Harry tried to push himself up, the children piled on top of him sliding down slightly. "Don't know you ought to warm people before jumping on them?" he said, looking down at the excited faces around him. "That almost broke the presents."

The excited faces seemed to kick up a notch as the kids all scrambled off of him.

"Dad! Dad! Guess what!"

Harry looked up at his oldest son. James was wearing one of Mrs. Weasley's custom sweaters, bright green with a large 'J' on it. Albus was standing next to him in a hat that practically flopped over his eyes it was so large. He was grinning up at Harry happily while Lily jumped around the two of them, still in her little nightie. Rose and Hugo had run over to Ron and Hermione.

"Do you really want me to guess James, or are you going to tell me?"

"Guess what Albus and I did, Dad!" James said excitedly. Harry waited for a moment before his son plowed on. "See the tree? See anything different?"

Harry drew his attention from his children for a moment to look up at the glimmering tree, looking for anything abnormal. His eyes traveled over it, the whole thing looking mostly like a normal christmas tree. He got to the top of the tree and-

James and Albus both fell over laughing as Harry's mouth dropped. Lily continued to jump about, though she was laughing as well.

"Did you boys do that?" Harry asked, staring up at the gnome. It was wrapped in red and gold ribbons with a little crown on it. It seemed to be struggling slightly and Harry could hear what was probably a muffled "gerrofme!" faintly coming from it.

"Albus and I caught it last night lurking by the front door!" James said in between laughs. "He found some old ribbon and tied it up!" Albus nodded proudly while James laughed.

"I made the crown!" Lily piped up, shining with pride, her little hands on her hips as she stood triumphantly in front of her father.

Harry burst out laughing. "Well," he said, looking down at his three children, face shining. "I don't think I've seen a better tree topper." The three of them beamed at him before grabbing his hands and dragging him over to the mess of wrappings on the floor evidently where the stockings had been.

"Looks like they certainly take after their father," a voice said from behind him. Turning, Harry saw Ginny sit down beside him as the kids tore through their already opened stockings, clammering happily. She was wearing a bulky white sweater, her now short hair swinging about her face gently.

"I dunno," Harry said, grinning as he watched his kids fuss over candies. "It seems like more of something Fred and George would have done as kids."

Ginny smiled softly. "I think they tried to turn Scabbers into an ornament once," she commented. "But Percy found out before they managed it."

Harry laughed. It was still strange to talk about the twins with one of them gone, but it was a shame to Fred to not remember his and George's antics. Albus turned to Harry and Ginny, his hat slipping down even more. "Can we open presents now?" He pushed his hat up as James and Lily turned to them expectantly.

"Yeah, can we?" Harry heard Rose ask her own mother from where Ron, Hermione, and their kids were seated on the sofa. Hugo had begun to wrap Ron in a garland while Hermione placed a new barrette in Rose's hair.

"Not until Andromeda and Teddy arrive," Hermione told them all calmly. A collective groan was heard from all the kids at the news. Fleur walked in, Victorie trailing behind her.

"Harry!" the young girl exclaimed, rushing up and hugging him excitedly. Fleur's daughter had inherited her slim figure and long sweeping blond hair, just as beautiful as her mother. "We've been waiting for you to get here all morning!" She hadn't however, inherited her mother's accent.

"All morning?" Harry said, glancing at his watch. "It's just nine in the morning." He looked at the kids surrounding him. "When did you all get up?"

"Five thirty," James said as he pulled Albus' hat down over his eyes and giggling. Albus tried to hit his brother as James pulled away, laughing. "We were quiet until Mom came down." Harry glanced at Ginny, who smiled and nodded slightly. "Victorie didn't get up until six thirty though." Victorie stuck her tongue out at James, who in turn blew a raspberry at her.

"Wow, you sure got up early," Harry said, grinning as Albus wrestled the hat off his head and threw himself on top of James.

"Of course we did!" yelled Rose from Hermione's lap, her hair pulled back beautifully. "It's Christmas! You have to get up early!"

"Just like every other holiday," said a voice from the doorway and all the occupants of the room whipped around to see the new arrival. Andromeda Tonks stood in the door way, wrapped in a shall and looking worn, but happy. She smiled gently down at everyone as Teddy peeked into the room from behind her. "Happy Christmas everyone."

"Teddy!" yelled James excitedly, launching himself from hit tickle fight with Albus.

"James!" Teddy shouted from behind his grandmother, his hair a bright turquoise. "Gran! Let me through."

Andromeda smiled mischievously, looking around her in mock confusion. "Teddy? I don't think he's here. Sorry Jamie dear."

"I'm right here!" yelled Teddy, trying to squeeze past his grandmother. James ran up to her and tried to pull Teddy through.

"Who? Oh! Teddy when did you get here!"

Harry tried to hide his smile as Andromeda, Teddy and James all began to play a sort of strange ring-around-the-rosie. Ginny laughed softly beside him. Standing up, he walked over to the elderly woman and gave her a warm hug. "Happy Christmas, Andromeda," he said, drawing back.

"Good lord boy, don't you ever gain weight?" the woman chided playfully as she gave Harry a once over. Harry laughed before drawing away slightly and looking down at his godson.

"Hey there, short stuff," Harry grinned as Teddy leapt up to hug him, the ten year old happily giggling.

"I'm not that short!" Teddy protested as he leaned back, staring at Harry. "I'm taller then you were when you were my age!"

Harry laughed and set Teddy down. James immediately began telling Teddy about his gnome tree topper while Harry turned to Andromeda. "How have you been?"

Andromeda sighed, a twinkle in her wrinkled eyes as she looked over the kids swarming the floor. "Just about as good as always," she replied. "Getting old and ignoring the fact."

"Can we open presents now?" Albus asked, eyes shining as he pulled his hat on again, the article flopping over his head comically.

Hermione stood up, lifting Rose off her lap as she looked at the children around her. "Well," eager faces all turned towards her. "We need everyone here to do that." She looked over at Ron expectantly, smiling.

"Round 'em up!" Ron yelled as every child scampered from the room to pull and drag every person in the house to the living room. Harry laughed, leaning down to pick up his bag and hastily put the gifts he had brought where he could find space under the tree.

Two hours, a few cups of egg nog, and a whole lot of wrapping paper later found everyone sitting together, chatting happily as the children all compared gifts. They had taken the gnome down and it was presently trying to sneak it's way to the window. James and Teddy had built a sort of fort with all the wrapping paper, naming it the 'festive fort' and telling Victorie and Rose, much to their disappointment, that there were no girls allowed. Lily was told she was an exception and was presently putting stickers all over it. Mrs. Weasley had returned to the kitchen with Ginny and Fleur to finish he cooking and Mr. Weasley was regaling them all with stories from his childhood.

"Thanks again for the book, Harry," Hermione said from beside him. Ron had his arm draped over her shoulder as the three of them were seated on the sofa. She was holding a thick volume in her lap and was sporting a large navy scarf. "I've been trying to find a copy for a while, but it was out of print."

Harry grinned at her, watching as Rose and Victorie cooed over Victorie's new pet puffskein they had christened Ichabod. "I figured you might enjoy it. Especially since it might give some interesting viewpoints on Transfigurations."

"I can't believe you gave her a book," Teddy called up from the floor where he and James were examining his new broom. "She's a teacher, shouldn't you get her non-teacher stuff?"

Harry and Hermione laughed. Teddy had set the school books Hermione had got him next to James' pile of socks. "I thought you'd be excited about learning, what with getting to go to Hogwarts in the fall."

Teddy rolled his eyes, though Harry could see he was trying to mask his excitement. His hair had begun to twinge of orange, his excited color. "Am I really going to have to call you and Aunt Hermione Professor?"

Harry laughed as Hermione nodded. Teddy huffed and turned back to James, who began animatedly asking him about what he was going to do when he got to Hogwarts. Andromeda had sunk into the arm chair beside Harry. He turned to her when he felt her wizened hand alight gently on his arm, turning away from Ron and Hermione, who were chatting quietly as Hugo played with his new bear.

"It's been a while since we've seen you around," Andromeda said, eyes twinkling as she looked at Harry.

Harry smiled apologetically. Typically, he would visit Andromeda and Teddy for dinner once a week. Lately, however, he had been only able to make it every other week or so. "I'm sorry," he said, sincerely. "Things just got somewhat frantic, what with the holidays coming up." He gently took her hand in his. "I'll be visiting regularly once things get back into swing. I promise."

She smiled pleased. "I hope you keep to that," she told him. "Teddy's missed you greatly. He enjoys your company so much. It's usually just me and my old bones." She shifted. "You've been a great model for him."

Harry, though touched, looked at Andromeda intently. "Andromeda," he said, seriously. "Is everything all right?"

She patted his hand gently. "Just the usual aging," she replied, looking over to where Teddy and James had opened up Harry's old broom servicing kit. "Nothing for you to worry about." She smiled before hoisting herself slowly from her chair. "Now, to see if I can't cause some trouble in the kitchen." Harry watched her shuffle off fondly.

Lily crawled into his lap, her flashing stickers clutched in her tiny hand. "Ah!" Harry said, throwing his hands up. "The princess graces me with her presence!" Lily was wearing a crown she had made from wrapping paper and tinsel and a new silver necklace. She giggled at Harry's words.

"Stay still and close your eyes!" the five year old demanded, peeling a flashing red and green christmas tree from the paper, her tongue sticking out slightly in concentration. Harry did as he was told, waiting patiently as Lily firmly pressed the sticker to Harry's forehead. "Okay!"

Harry cracked open his eyes to see his daughter grinning happily at him. He reached a hand up and felt his forehead for the sticker. His fingers brushed over it, the spot all too familiar. It was placed directly over his scar. Looking at his daughter, he grinned. "Why thank you Lily," he said, and began to bounce her on his knees. She giggled delightedly, settling into his chest a moment later and examining her new necklace.

"Dad!" James called from the floor, where he had pulled on his new pair of mittens and was wrestling with Albus over the floppy hat. Harry nodded towards him to show he was listening. "Can we go outside and play?"

Harry looked over to Ron, Hermione, and Bill, the children all looking pleadingly at their parents. "I dunno," Ron said, pulling a serious face and giving the shining faces a stern look. "What to you think Bill?" He looked over at his brother.

"Please!" chorused five different voices.

"Oh," Bill said, shrugging as he looked at them all. "All right."

"Yes!" shouted James, thrusting a fist into the air as he jumped to his feet, dragging Teddy up with him. He, Teddy, Rose, Hugo, and Victorie were just about halfway across the floor when Hermione called out to them.

"Make sure to dress warmly!"

"OK!" Rose yelled over her shoulder as she scrambled out of the room, pulling Hugo by the hand as he stumbled over his new too big socks.

Lily looked pleadingly up at Harry. "Can I go too?" she asked, her small voice hopeful.

Harry grinned. "Only if I can come too," he said, to which she nodded and leapt from his lap, dragging him to the mass of children at the front door all wrestling into coats, boots, hats, glove, and scarves. Harry pulled on his coat as James wrenched the door open. Ron, and George were putting their things on as well, Ron sporting a maroon scarf and hat. Smiling, they followed the shouting mass of children out into the cool winter air, grinning as sides were almost immediately decided and they began a rather intense snowball fight. Lily was told she was referee and she stood importantly on the drift Harry had apparated into.

"Wish we were that age again," Ron said wistfully as he watched Hugo try to lob a snowball and fall over backwards with the force of his swing. James and Teddy had take opposite sides, shouting commands to their teammates. George nodded at Ron's comment, scooping up a hand full of snow and absently molding it into a ball. "I said wish not 'let's be that age again'," Ron said, watching his brother apprehensively. George grinned at him.

"Whose team is Lily on?" Ginny asked, coming up to stand beside Harry, her hands in her coat pockets.

"She's being referee," Harry said, smiling as he watched the little girl shout at her brothers and Teddy over a stray snowball which had hit Victorie in the side of the head. "Doing a mighty fine job too, I'd say." Ginny smiled, and Harry absently noticed Ron and George moving away from them slightly, chatting softly about the joke shop.

"How've you been?" Ginny asked quietly, her eyes still on their children.

Harry sighed, knowing this conversation was bound to happen sooner or later and thankful the children were occupied enough not to notice. "I've been doing fine. Mottle stuff fusses something dreadful over the state of my socks." Ginny smiled again, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "Hogwarts is the same, students just as into trouble as when we were there, though without Voldemort haunting them."

Ginny stiffened slightly at the mention of the name but relaxed moments later. "That's good," she commented. "The boys have been great. Lily's been an absolute sweet heart, though of course you know that." She finally turned to Harry, grinning. He smiled gently back. "I've been fine, the Prophet doesn't call for too much time and Christopher helps where he can." Harry nodded at the news. Last time he'd gone to pick the children up for the weekend, he had met Ginny's newest boyfriend, Christopher. He was tall and handsome and apparently worked in the local apothecary. He'd been very polite when Harry had met him and seemed nice enough.

Harry smiled, looking over the intensifying snowball fight. Hugo had taken to hiding behind a large flowerpot and was randomly throwing snowballs. Rose and Victorie had begun to build some sort of barricade or fort while Albus rolled a stack of snowballs. "Has he been treating you well?" Harry asked, not looking at Ginny.

"Yes, he has," Ginny answered simply. "Albus and Lily get along with him alright, though James is still a little stand offish." She sighed and pushed her shoulders up slightly. "Doesn't seem to like the idea that he's replacing something." Harry swallowed. "Sorry," Ginny muttered, looking away and over to the drive.

"It's fine," Harry said, ignoring the small part of him that wanted to be jealous. He had stopped that a long time ago and wasn't about to let it roll in again. A soft silence fell between them, punctuated by the shouts and noise of the snowball fight. "I was thinking of taking the kids with me until New Years," Harry said, finally breaking the silence. Ginny nodded. "I'm having a small gathering at the house on New Years, if you'd like to join us."

Ginny looked over at him. "I'd like that. Do you want to come back with us to pick up their things before the go home with you tonight then?"

Harry nodded, smiling as his breath misted in front of him lazily, cut with a few lazy snowflakes still falling. Ginny was shuffling her feet when Harry caught a movement in the corner of his eye. He glanced over to the front gate and his eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Excuse me," he said to Ginny before walking brusquely over to a stiffly standing Minerva McGonegall, smiling at the Headmistress. Ginny, seeing their guest, had turned and disappeared into the house, presumably to tell the others.

"Hello Headmistress," Harry said, grinning at her when he came into hearing range. "Wonderful to see you on this holiday. Would you care to come in and warm up a bit? I'm sure Molly would love to have you join us."

McGonegall's mouth twitched in a smile but she remained standing where she was. "Actually, I came to speak with you, Mr. Potter," she said as if preparing a lecture. Harry noticed her eyes flash to the riotous snowball fight before she looked back at Harry. "As you would recall from the meeting before the holiday, we are in a tight spot for a Potions teacher." Harry nodded. "Well," she paused for a moment, her hands absently smoothing down the front of her cloak. "I finally managed to confirm a replacement just last night."

"That's excellent news, Headmistress," Harry said, smiling.

"Yes, indeed," McGonegall said, continuing. "However, I am worried that some of the staff won't be quite enthusiastic to welcome our new member. I would like, in this case, for you to be an aid for him to get acclimated to the school and help him should he ask." Harry stared at her, frowning slightly. "I am asking you this because it relates to my second matter of discussion."

"You mean about your resignation," Harry supplied to which McGonegall nodded.

"Yes, exactly," she said, looking him straight in the face. "I would like you to take up the position of the Headmaster after the end of this year."

Harry stared at her. The sounds and yells from the children's oblivious snow fight echoing around him. "You want me to-"

"To be my successor, yes," McGonegall cut him off, watching him closely.

"Have you spoken to the School Governors about this?" Harry questioned, his mind racing.

"They seemed slightly hesitant at first because of the typical age of the Headmasters, but it was, for the most part, a unanimous decision with almost no debate." McGonegall sighed. "Look Potter, I know you may not think it superb but really, of those I could think of, I would most like to see you leading the school for the future."

Harry stayed silent, his mind buzzing with contradicting statements and ideas. "Would you mind if I thought this over a bit?" he asked, looking up at McGonegall seriously.

This seemed to relieve her somewhat, as her shoulders relaxed slightly. "Not at all, Mr. Potter." She smiled faintly. "I look forward to your response."

Harry smiled back at her. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to come in for a bit?"

McGonegall smiled genuinely. "Much as I appreciate Mrs. Weasley's cooking and kindness, I really ought to go. I doubt I could keep up with such a lot as you have." She looked over to the slowly winding down snowball fight. "Please pass on my regards however and," she paused. "Feel free to share this information with Mrs. Granger, or Weasley I should say as she is now. Other than that, I'd like for this to remain as quiet as possible."

"Of course, Headmistress," Harry said, smiling, as he watched her step away from the gate and vanish with a faint pop.

"Dad!" James yelled, running up to him as he made his way back across the yard. "I beat Teddy in the snowball fight!"

"Did not!" Teddy hollered back from his position lying in the snow. "He cheated!"

"Sore loser!" James yelled back as Harry laughed.

A/N: I shall be updating this story on Fridays if at all possible. If not, then as soon after that as possible. Thank you for the reviews! I'm glad to see people want me to continue this. I'm rather enjoying writing it.


	3. May All Misfortunes Be Forgot

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or have any profit from writing this stuff. I just do it for my own twisted happiness. I do, however, own Mottle, even if she swears Harry is her master. **

_Italics: Flashbacks_

The Headmaster's Office.

Chapter 2: "May all misfortunes be forgot and never brought to mind"

_"What do you mean you're leaving Hogwarts?"_

_"I mean just that, Harry." Ginny was angrily shuffling through her books, slamming a stack of papers on her desk. "I'm not working here anymore. I've taught for five years and I've had my fill."_

_"Have you honestly given this thought though?" Harry was leaning over the desk, facing his wife as she tore about their study, stray hair hanging down over her face. _

_Ginny rounded on him angrily. "Of course I have!" she snapped angrily. "I've been thinking of it since I found out Albus was on the way! I'm supposed to be a mother right now Harry, not a teacher. I've already talked to McGonagall and she's got a few people lined up to take over in the fall."_

_Harry gaped at her. "You told McGonagall before you told me?"_

_"YES!" Ginny yelled at him. "I told her two months ago but was waiting to tell you because I knew you'd be a stick in the mud! Honestly, what happened to being spontaneous! I remember you were all about that once upon a time."_

_"Once upon a time was when we were seventeen!" Harry shouted back. "When I wasn't a working man with a career. When I didn't have to plan the future aside from killing Voldemort. Before I was a father!"_

_"And you're just as good at that as yours was," Ginny sneered at him. _

_"What?" Harry demanded darkly. Straying into Harry's parents was always an untouchable territory and Ginny knew it. _

_"I'm saying you're never home!" Ginny threw her hands up in the air. "You're too wrapped up in teaching Defense to students! We're not in a war anymore! They don't need to be ready to fight Voldemort like we did!"_

_"I'm as home as much as you!" Harry shouted back, his eyes flashing. "I've been there as much as a working man can be! I'm doing everything I can to be a good father to my children and you know it!" He slammed a hand down on the desk stepping away and sighing, trying to calm himself. "I'm trying my best, Gin. I'm sorry I may not be there as much as you'd prefer, but some things just aren't possible."_

_"Well I'm not doing it anymore," Ginny said flatly. "I'm leaving the Charms position and going to stay at home with the boys."_

_Harry ran a hand through his hair, feeling exhausted. "You realize with you not working I'm going to be the only source of income." Ginny huffed. "I might have to work overtime as well, McGonagall wants to make me head of Gryffindor."_

_Ginny turned to him sharply. "Excuses always? You're turning into your parents and Sirius, Harry. Making excuses as to why you can't be in your children's lives."_

_"I am not making excuses!" Harry yelled. "Sirius was in Azkaban, if you remember, and my parents were dead! It's not like they could have done anything!"_

_Ginny said nothing, instead giving him a sour look and storming from the room. Harry groaned in frustration, stomping from the study. A sudden noise made him turn. A three year old James was was hiding in the shadows by the half open door, tears rolling down his face as he looked up at Harry fearfully. Harry's anger immediately vanished to be replaced by guilt. Sighing, he crouched down, holding his arms out to his son. _

_"I'm sorry James," he said softly as the boy sniffed loudly. "Mommy and I sometimes don't see things the same way. It's all right. You did nothing wrong."_

_James sniffed again before running into Harry arms, crying softly as his father held him._

"C'mon Dad! I wanna stay up until midnight!"

Harry grinned down at the pouting boy. "Now James, you know it's already way past your bedtime," Harry scolded gently as the boy scowled up at him. "It's late and you need your rest for the new year tomorrow."

"But I'm not tired," James protested, trying to prop himself up on his elbows.

"Tell you what," Harry said, sitting back and looking at James seriously. "If I come back in half an hour and you're still awake, you can stay up. Sound fair?" James nodded enthusiastically, grinning. "Alright, but I'm turning the lights out."

"I'll be awake! You'll see!" the eight year old called to his father. Harry, keeping the door open a sliver, peeked in just in time to see James yawn before snuggling down and staring determinedly at the ceiling, muttering "won't go to sleep" under his breath.

Chuckling softly to himself, Harry quietly walked back down the stairs, expecting that in half an hour James would be fast asleep and dreaming. At the bottom of the stairs, the soft murmur of voices in the kitchen drifted over to him. Smiling, he looked in, leaning on the door frame and watching the occupants.

Ron, George, Ginny, and Andromeda were all sitting at the scrub kitchen table, watching as Hermione and Mottle argued by the sink. Ron was nursing a cup of coffee and George was wearing a festive Happy New Year hat which Ginny was poking occasionally. Andromeda was seated in one of the chairs, watching things with crinkled eyes and a warm smile. Hermione was standing with her hands on the kitchen sink behind her while Mottle stood importantly on her stool (used typically for washing dishes).

"But you do so much work for Harry," Hermione was saying, apparently back on her old subject of S.P.E.W. yet again, just like fourth year. She had been extremely angry with Harry when he and Ginny had decided to get a house elf but had quieted some when Harry had explained Mottle's relation to Dobby and that Harry had offered to pay her handsomely.

"Mottle doesn't want paying, Mrs. Weasley!" Mottle said firmly, her little fists defiantly propped on her hips. "Mottle is almost thinking _she_ should be paying Harry Potter because he is so good to her!" Needless to say Mottle had refused all forms of payment what so ever when Harry had offered and made he and Ginny gourmet meals for a week to prove her devotion.

"But Dobby-"

"Mottle is perfectly aware of what her cousin twice removed on her mother's side was wanting and did!" Mottle cut Hermione off. "Mottle is wanting none of that! Besides, Harry Potter has told Mottle to speak her mind completely even if it might be offensive." She nodded her head, as if proving a point. "That is all the freedom Mottle is ever wanting."

"Remind me to hit him for that," Ginny said, grinning.

"Harry Potter is the best Master Mottle could have asked for," Mottle said, fondly. "Even if he doesn't always listen to Mottle and doesn't finish his vegetables."

"That's not true," Harry said from the doorway, grinning in amusement as their heads turned to him, "I eat my vegetables." Smiling, he took a seat opposite George, who grinned at him, hat bobbing slightly. Mottle gave him a pointed look, her hands still firmly on her hips. "Well, most of the time."

Ron and Ginny laughed, while George smiled and Hermione fought a grin.

"I still don't see why you don't set her free, Harry," Hermione said, continuing her tirade.

"Are you kidding me?" Harry said, incredulous. "She'd poison me if I so much as tossed her a sock!"

"Unless it is for washing, Harry Potter sir," Mottle said, nodding in agreement with Harry's statement. Ron snorted into his coffee cup as Mottle wandered from the room, quietly reminding Harry to tell her if he needed anything.

"So who do you think is going to be the new Potions fill in?" George said, as if continuing a topic they had already been on for a while.

Hermione frowned. They had gotten to talking over the topic after Christmas dinner, though Harry had only relayed the information McGonagall had given him to Hermione, who had fortunately kept mum. "I dunno, though I still think it's a shame about Slughorn."

"To be honest, I'd say it's about time he retired," Andromeda commented, sipping a cup of tea. "He's already retired once. I was surprised when he stayed on after the war."

"As was I," Harry said, nodding. "Well, if the new professor is anything like Edmund we're in luck."

"You mean Professor Kipton?" George said, getting up and pouring himself a cup of coffee.

Harry nodded and Hermione pushed herself from the sink to sit down next to Ron. "He's quite talented, I'll agree," she said as Ron habitually draped his arm over her shoulders. "Still, I wish we didn't have to shift mid year." She sighed. "It's such an impact on the students."

"Are you kidding?" Ron said, looking at his wife in amusement. "They'll be delighted! Makes the school year more interesting. Besides, it's fresh meat technically."

"I swear, in ten years you're still as mature as a seventeen year old boy," Hermione said, shoving him playfully.

"Honestly though," Ron continued, ignoring Hermione's comment. "How do those kids do it? They must be bored out of their minds. When we were in school we always had something to do."

"You mean constantly risking our necks to fight dark wizards?" Harry clarified, raising an eyebrow.

"When you put it like that is sounds so negative," Ron said, waving a hand. "Calling it constructive character building adventures makes it sound much less dangerous and foreboding."

"It's when you say stuff like that that your lack of normal childhood becomes apparent," Ginny said, glancing at her brother. Everyone laughed at this.

"You'd be surprised, Ron," Harry said, folding his arms as he grinned at his best friend. "They may not be battling dark wizards but I can certainly see why the Marauders were able to make as much mischief as they did." Hermione nodded, knowing where Harry was going. "Those kids honestly have more time on their hands that they ought. I swear, most of them seem to be taking after the Weasley twin legacy." Harry nodded to George, who smiled softly and sipped his coffee.

"Oh come on, they can't be that bad," Ginny said skeptically.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Consider yourself lucky you left when you did, Ginny," she said, leaning forward in her seat. "The lot we put up with. I haven't seen that much trouble since Lockhart set those Cornish Pixies loose in the classroom."

"I'd almost forgotten about that!" Ron said, grinning widely at the memory. "Tricky little blighters, them pixies were."

"I swear, I've never seen a more havoc obsessed lot than those fifth years," Harry said, stretching his arms out over the table. "You know, one of the Ravenclaw boys made something to rival those fireworks you set off in our fifth year, George." George raised an eyebrow.

"Did he now? What's it do?"

"Size of a lemon drop," Harry described. "Just prod the thing and it blows up like a grenade. Covers anything within distance in bright rainbow soot and makes a show like LSD would if put into explosives."

George laughed while Hermione sighed, obviously recalling when one of the things had gone off in the entrance hall. Enid, the new caretaker, had nearly dragged out Filch's old torturing devices on the lot of the fifth years, muttering to his hound about 'wretched abominations to society' before Hermione had calmed him down.

"I'd love to be in school again," Ron said wistfully, looking up at the ceiling in one of his memory moments.

Everyone was silent at this, Ginny swirling the dregs of her coffee in her cup, George staring at the table, Hermione watching Ron as Andromeda seemed to look into nothing. The moment broke quickly however, as Ginny straightened up and glanced at the clock on the wall.

"I should be getting home," she said, standing from her chair and taking the cup to the sink absently. "It's getting late and Christopher will be waiting."

Sighing, Harry dragged himself up and stood. "I'll show you to the door," he mumbled, distractedly walking to the doorway.

"I can get there myself," Ginny remarked, though following him none the less. "I did used to live here, you know."

"It's called being a polite host," Harry replied, grinning slightly to himself as he kept walking to the door, keeping his voice down as they passed the stairway. He'd have to check on James in a moment, just to make sure the trickster hadn't actually stayed up. "I've been practicing manners."

"Mottle would be proud," Ginny said jokingly from behind him. As they came to the door, Harry watched absently as Ginny pulled on her cloak, mind back upstairs with his children as they slumbered.

"So when are you going to tell me what's got you bothered?"

Harry was jolted from his musings as he quickly turned to look at Ginny. "What?"

Ginny sighed, giving him one of her looks. "Something's got you bothered and you're letting it play merry-go-round in your head till you snap." She raised an eyebrow. "I know you well enough by now. What is it."

Harry frowned. "It's nothing Ginny. I'll drop the boys and Lily off tomorrow before I head back to Hogwarts." He made to open the door but Ginny swiftly put a hand to it, keeping it firmly shut.

"When are you going to move on?" she said, quietly but demandingly, eyeing him seriously. "It's been four years. I've moved on, why haven't you?" Harry finally met her eyes and glared. "When are you going to date someone and stop moping about?"

"I have not be moping," Harry snapped, frowning. "In case you hadn't noticed, I've been _working_ these past four years, hard, at a steady job." Ginny rolled her eyes. "_And," _Harry continued as if he hadn't seen her gesture. "Every moment I have free I've been spending with the children. I may not seem them as much as I like, but I still want to be a part of their lives as much as I can."

"But what about you?" Ginny pressed, leaning towards him slightly. "When are you going to get on with yourself." She huffed. "It's all good and well that you want to be with your children, but you're lonely." Harry scowled at the door. "Stop denying it. When will you get back on your feet and find someone nice to settle with?"

Harry bit back his retort. He knew it wasn't something she would enjoy hearing. That he didn't want to find someone else. That he was tired of being disappointed. That he had stopped searching because there was just nothing left that he wanted. So, instead of being honest, Harry decided to use a distraction. "McGonagall is trying to find a replacement," he said softly, still scowling at the door.

"Yes, I heard about that at Christmas but-"

"She wants it to be me," Harry cut her off, glancing up at her. Ginny's mouth had fallen open, a look of complete and utter shock written over her face. "She wants me to become headmaster next fall. She's cleared it with the governors and asked me at Christmas." Harry sighed, watching as Ginny's face remained frozen while her eyes betrayed the flashing of thought inside her head.

She swallowed, quickly moving from her shock. "Please don't tell me you were an idiot and said no." She frowned suddenly, watching Harry's face closely. "Harry James Potter, if you denied that opportunity you are by far the stupidest man I've ever met."

Her voice had risen slightly as her face stained with pink in her temper and Harry anxiously waved his hands, trying to shush her, face slightly panicked. "Shush!" he said, glancing back down the hallway. "I didn't tell her no!" Ginny's face began to lose the pink tint and her scowl became less pronounced. "I told her I'd think about it a bit and then give her my answer."

Ginny's scowl was back, full force. "If you say no, so help me, I will skin you alive if Mottle doesn't do it first," she growled at him. "This is one of the best offers you're going to have!"

Harry ran a hand distractedly through his hair, sighing. "I know, I know, it's just," he sighed again and looked back at Ginny. "I like teaching." She huffed and crossed her arms. "And I don't know how much time this is going to take away from what I spend with the kids." Ginny's features softened, but only slightly. "I don't want to disappear from their lives."

Ginny sighed. "Look," she said. "Things haven't always been easy between us and with them. But I know they think the world of you." She smiled slightly. "I'm positive they would understand if you had more duties to school. They'd still love you just as much."

Harry scowled. "I don't want to have them understand!" he snapped. "That's not something a child should have to do!" He rubbed a hand over his face. "It's why I told McGonagall I needed time to think," he said tiredly. "I need to consider everything before I make this choice. It's a change that I want to be completely prepared for."

Ginny scowled and reached for the door. "Fine," she said, wrenching the door opened and letting cold air seep over the threshold. "But if you say no, I swear, if Mottle doesn't club you with a wooden spoon, I sure as Hell will."

Harry smiled slightly, remembering the old threat Ginny used to use on him from their first years of marriage. "I'll drop the kids off tomorrow," he said as he watched her walk down the steps. "And Gin." She turned back. "Please don't tell anyone about this." She nodded curtly before disapparating.

Harry quickly closed the door and ran a hand through his hair again, doing nothing to improve its typical state of mess as he ascended the stairs to check on James. Fortunately, when he peeked in, the boy was fast asleep, head turned towards the door and mouth slightly open as he slept. Smiling gently, Harry turned quietly from the sight and furtively made his way down the steps to the drawing room. Sighing as he stepped into the room, he flopped down on the couch, the soft murmur of voices drifting gently from the kitchen. The clock over the fireplace read ten forty five.

"Getting late, isn't it?" a soft voice said, startling Harry as he turned quickly to the door way. Andromeda stood there, smiling softly as she looked over at him, eyes twinkling like Dumbledor's used to years ago. Pulling her shall around her, she walked gently into the room, eyes drifting over to the mantle and the many pictures which adorned the surface. Harry stood quietly to stand next to her as her eyes slowly swept over each of them, the occupants smiling and waving up at them.

"It's hard to really realize how much time has passed," Andromeda said quietly as her eyes alighted on the two photos of the Order of the Phoenix, the one that Sirius had given him from the first war, and the one that Colin had taken, just a few weeks before Dumbledor had died. Andromeda was looking at the more recent photo, still smiling softly but her eyes seemed distant, sad and longing. She was looking at Tonks.

"It is," Harry said softly from beside her, looking at the other occupants in the photo as well. Lupin, Fred and George, and even Snape looked up at him, waving (except Snape, he just looked uncomfortable and kept shifting his eyes). His eyes drifted to himself, Ron and Hermione by his side, smiling up at him, still just under seventeen and unknowing of the horrors they were about to face. Horrors he had faced, now burned into his memory forever, like the scar on his forehead. To stay with him whether he wanted it or not.

"You know," Andromeda said, angling her head towards Harry. "It seems like just yesterday that Nymphadora and Remus were showing me little Teddy." Her eyes were shining slightly, never leaving the form of her daughter, frozen in time. "Just yesterday he was a little baby, turquoise haired, wrapped in blankets resting in her arms." Harry shifted his weight from his left foot to his right. "And now he's getting ready to go off to Hogwarts himself. Asleep upstairs in the bedroom his father would visit Sirius in, dreaming about clogging toilets and catching frogs, no doubt." Harry laughed in spite of himself and Andromeda turned to him, smiling gently.

"I'd have to say that'd be James' influence," Harry said, his eyes drifting over the faces of his parents, Sirius, and Remus. "I don't want to know what trouble they'll get into once he enters school. Remus would be proud."

Andromeda grinned. "About as much trouble as 'Dora did, I'd imagine." Harry smiled at her. Adjusting her shall, she yawned and turned away from the mantel. "Harry, I think 'Dora and Remus would be as proud of you as they would be their own son." Harry stared at her, not knowing how to respond. "Remus, I imagine, often saw you as something of a son to him, just as much as Sirius did." Harry swallowed as Andromeda turned to study a hanging by the door. "You've done more than I think he could have asked for when he appointed you Teddy's godfather."

"I've done what I can," Harry said, feeling embarrassed and resisting the urge to rub his hand through his hair yet again. "I'm just trying to do the best I can."

Andromeda smiled at him. "You've done a fine job," she said. "Now I think it's time for an old woman to take a night cap." She winked at him. "Staying up to welcome the new year is for younger people, like you and those in the kitchen, not a sack of bones like me." Still smiling, she turned and left Harry alone in the room, the light flicker of the candles dancing on he walls as her words echoed in his head. Suddenly, old words floated along side them.

_"And you're just as good at that as yours was," Ginny sneered at him. _

Harry sighed, the arguments he had with Ginny in years past flashing before him once again. Taking off his glasses and rubbing a tired hand over his face, Harry sank into the couch, hearing the old springs creak under his weight. The clock over the fireplace now read eleven fifteen. James' sleeping face drifted across his mind, the boys earlier voices echoing inside his head. The crying face of a three year old Albus when Harry had tried to explain that his mother wouldn't be living with Harry anymore. Teddy's face when he had looked at his parents picture for the first time and realizing who they really were.

"I thought you stopped brooding after the war ended."

Harry dropped his hand from his face and slipped on his glasses, the blurred figure at the door coming into focus. Ron was leaning against the door frame, two champagne flutes in one hand as the other was thrust inside his trouser pockets.

"I have relapses every now and then," Harry said, though grinning slightly as Ron pushed off the doorway and walked over to sit opposite him in one of the armchairs. "If you don't watch out, I'll become Mad-eye Potter, seeing dark wizards everywhere and cursing dustbins."

"Better you than me," Ron said, grinning. "Though I'd probably be more likely, considering I'm the auror here." Harry laughed. "So what's got you all downs and frowns? I haven't seen you this distracted and borderline wretched since the divorce."

Harry paused a moment, trying to think over what to say. "Am I a bad father?" That wasn't what he had meant to say. Harry mentally slapped himself in the face as Ron's eyes widened slightly and he stilled momentarily. Ron suddenly shook his head, eyes closed.

"What has gotten into your head lately?" Ron said, looking at Harry, smiling slightly. "I thought you'd never probe for gratification." Harry rolled his eyes.

"Ron-"

"Of course you're not a bad father," Ron cut him off before he could say anything. "Why would you ask something like that?"

Harry shook his head. "Nevermind," he sighed, standing up and shaking his head. "I've just been thinking too much lately. Head's a bit muddled."

Ron gave him a quick calculating look (Hermione had rubbed off on him after all those years. His emotional range had finally expanded beyond a teaspoon) before shrugging and standing as well. "Well, nothing to do but muddle it a bit more." He grinned. "C'mon. Let's go celebrate the New Year properly. With champagne and come of George's confetti."

"I'm sure Mottle will be pleased in the morning."

"Nothing says 'Welcome the New Year' like champagne and unnecessary amounts of useless confetti everywhere."

Harry laughed and followed his friend from the room, casting one last glance at the photos on the mantle.

A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews everyone! I love reading them and they're really wonderful to keep my writing going! Just a heads up, next week I am returning to school and, therefore, my time schedule will be much more limited. I will try to post chapters on Fridays but it might be more like every other Friday (two week gaps) because of studies and such. Just wanting you all to know. I apologize but otherwise the chapters will be short and I wont have had enough time to really think them through, making them less enjoyable. Hugs to all!


	4. I Know You I Fought With You Once Upon A

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way shape or form. If I did, I'd not have to worry about being in college and just be able to write all the time. **

_Italics: Flashbacks_

The Headmaster's Office.

Chapter 3: _"I know you, I fought with you once upon a time." _

_Harry had never felt so happy. He grinned, joy bubbling in his stomach as he took in his surroundings. _

_It was June, the trees and flowers all just coming into bloom around him and the backyard of the Burrow had been decorated fantastically. Seated in white folding chairs over the lawn was the entire Weasley family, Hermione and her family, what was left of the Order of the Phoenix, almost all of the Hogwarts staff and a few other people just for the heck of it. _

_But in front of him was who mattered. _

_Ginny, in a beautiful flowing white gown, beaming in the crisp air, a light blush dusting her cheeks as she glanced at him. _

_"You may now kiss the bride," came the voice from the minister before them, and Harry, feeling as if he were in some sort of dream, carefully turned to Ginny, lifting the delicate veil, felt his breath hitch. They leaned into each other, nervous and excited before their lips met. _

_Cheers ran out all as they kissed, breaking apart to grin at each other. _

_"I now pronounce you husband and wife."_

_Feeling happier than he had in years, Harry swept Ginny off her feet into his arms. She laughed and Harry felt his chest swell. It had to be the best sound he'd ever come to know. He laughed with her, walking down the aisle she had come in on amidst a standing crowd of clapping friends, family, and happiness. _

_Looking down, Harry saw Ginny laughing, her eyes closed as she clasped her arms around his neck, her face turned slightly as her hair swung freely about her. _

_It seemed for a moment as if the war hadn't existed, as if none of the killing had ever been. As if there weren't faces missing from the crowd that should have been there. It seemed for a moment that everything was perfect. _

_Harry was happy. And for a moment he believed that, from now on, nothing would change. _

_At the end of the aisle, he saw George, his head still wrapped in bandages, clapping and grinning at them. There was an empty seat besides him and his eyes shown with unshed tears._

_Harry tripped._

The kitchen in Grimmauld Place held many memories. Memories from the Order of the Phoenix meetings. Memories from when the Black family had been prosperous and living. Memories of Ginny and Harry raising children. Kreature grumbling about halfbloods and traitors. Sirius sitting at the head, grinning at Harry while Tonks turned her nose into a snout amid laughter from Hermione and Ginny. Now, it was empty, unoccupied as Harry stood at the doorway, a light dusting of snow on his shoulders as he looked inside. There were still a few bits of confetti lying on the floor.

"Master is going to be late if he doesn't leave soon," Mottle said as she pushed past him, a dust pan clutched in her hand as she stalked about, hunting the unsuspecting confetti and crumbs from the night before.

Harry smiled down at her, finally walking into the room and grabbing a handful of powder from a jar over the fireplace. "It almost sounds like you want to get rid of me, Mottle," he said, jokingly as he adjusted the bag over his shoulder containing the graded essays and papers for his students.

Mottle straightened up and stared at him. "Harry Potter knows better than that," she said, not moving for a moment as Harry smiled at her.

"I'm only teasing," he remarked as he tossed the powder onto the flames, turning them bright green. "I'll see you on Wednesday. Hogwarts. Harry Potter's room." He stepped into the flames, warm and tickling as they whooshed him away through the floo network. Over the years he had overcome his original clumsiness where it came to flooing places. He no longer fell flat on his face when leaving fireplaces, instead getting out gracefully in a way which would have rivaled Fleur. He'd spent years practicing and had the bruised elbows to show for it for weeks. Today was almost perfect.

Except for the fact that he tripped on the fire poker as he stepped out of the grate. With a great "oof!" Harry landed on the floor of his office, catching his arm on the corner of his desk as he went down. Pushing himself up, he glared at the sniggering portrait on the wall. "You keep quiet," he said sternly to the face of Phineas Nigelus.

"Why bother saying anything," Phineas said, his face twisted into an amused grin. "That'd ruin the moment of your stupidity. That was nearly as good as the time you fell over Granger's cat at Number 12. I haven't seen that much fur since it was considered fashionable."

"Always a help, you are," Harry grumbled at the portrait as he pushed himself to his feet, dusting off bits of soot from the bottom of his robes. Phineas grinned at him. Harry had barely had time to finish dusting off his robes and set his bag on the desk before Hermione burst through the door. Completely ignoring Harry's start at her sudden unannounced appearance, she walked right over to sit down in the vacant arm chair, talking the whole way.

"I just get to the grounds and what awaits me? A whole set of new traps and products from George's shop outside my door. You'd think the students would lay off for Christmas, but apparently they have nothing better to do. Honestly, why can't children read like they should instead of playing pranks," Hermione continued to rant for a few more minutes as Harry watched her patiently, looking her over. She looked exhausted and her hair was slightly more frazzled than usual. She was showing very clear signs of being stressed and not having slept well the night before. Or it was her time of the month. Harry never kept them straight, especially since the symptoms were practically identical. She finally finished speaking and Harry grinned at her when she looked up at him with a slightly expectant look.

"Hello," Harry said, smiling as he leaned against his desk. "Nice to see you too." Hermione huffed and leaned back in her chair heavily. "What's actually bothering you 'mione?"

"This whole new teacher business and all the changes in staff are driving me up a wall!" Hermione heaved, throwing her hands up as Harry grinned at her. Even ten years since they had been students themselves, Hermione occasionally would still act just like she had back then. "And to top it all off, as soon as I finish cleaning up the muck outside my office, McGonagall shows up and warns me that the new Potions teacher is arriving today and to make sure to be civil." She looked at Harry in annoyance. "_Civil," _she repeated. "What on earth would cause McGonagall to tell me to be _civil_?"

Harry frowned. "She told me the same thing," he told her. "She told me I'm supposed to show him the ropes and such, make him feel more comfortable." Hermione was watching him, her expression displaying how fast her mind was working. "I mean, I might not have been the most jolly bloke in the past, but if she's told you it must be someone really off."

Hermione was looking serious, as if she was about to say something but too caught up in the mental workings of her brain. She was spared speaking, however, when a knock sounded on the door of Harry's office. Pushing himself off his desk, Harry walked over to the door, looking at Hermione as he did so. "Which reminds me, would it really kill you to knock next time?" Hermione smiled, attempting to look guilty, as Harry opened the door and saw Neville Longbottom standing there, absently picking dirt from under his nails. As the door opened, he looked up, grinning when seeing Harry and Hermione.

"Hello," Neville said, fingers still in search of dirt. "Mind if I come in?"

Smiling in return, Harry gestured into his office, stepping back to let Neville through. "Had a good break, Neville?" he asked as Neville seated himself on Harry's couch.

Neville nodded, leaning back and making himself comfortable. "Yeah. It was great. Hannah and I had a wonderful time together visiting with her family. Her father lives near this wonderful forest with all sorts of fascinating specimens." Harry and Hermione, though used to Neville's love of plants by now, still had trouble controlling themselves every now and then. "What about you two?"

"Oh," said Harry shrugging, glancing at Hermione. "The basic. Big Weasley gathering, hanging out at Number Twelve. Spending time with the kids. Pretty much what we do every holiday." Hermione nodded and Neville grinned.

"I actually came by to see, firstly if you were here," Neville began, sitting up slightly. "And secondly because McGonagall told me told me the new Potions professor is arriving today."

"Yeah," Harry said, looking to Hermione again. "Hermione just told me."

"I also just wanted to pass on the invitation for all of us to head down for a spot of drink at the Three Broomsticks," Neville added, standing and brushing his robes. Harry raised an eyebrow slightly. "Edmund and suggested it and is off trying to find Oliver. I came to see if you two were back yet."

"Thanks Neville," Hermione said, smiling at him. She turned to look at Harry. "I think that might not be a bad idea. Help us prepare for the flood tomorrow will bring with students armed with new ideas and instruments for chaos."

Harry laughed, grabbing his cloak as he opened his door once again. "Well then, what are we waiting for."

Oliver and Edmund smiled as Harry, Neville, and Hermione joined them on the cold walk to the village of Hogsmead. Hogwarts was as beautiful as ever in the winter, and just as cold. Harry and Oliver talked over the recent events in the Quidditch realm while Hermione, Neville, and Edmund talked over the holidays. Oliver and Harry continued to argue all the way to the Three Broomsticks over the Quidditch of the year.

"Harry, I'm telling you," Oliver was saying, draping his cloak over the back of his chair and shaking his head. "Gryffindor isn't like it was when we were on the team. They don't have the same gusto for playing like we did."

"Nonsense," Harry said, dropping himself into his chair, Gryffindor pride showing slightly. "They just had a few slips."

"A few slips?" Oliver said incredulously. "They lost to Hufflepuff!"

"You'd better not be insulting my house, Wood," Edmund said, donning a scowl as he glanced over at the Flying instructor and Quidditch referee.

"I wouldn't dream of it Kipton," Oliver said, grinning over the table. "I was simply telling Potter that Gryffindor's team isn't quite what it was when we used to play."

"Of course they're not," Neville said, rolling his eyes. "They haven't had a decent seeker or set of beaters since Harry and the twins."

"Honestly, why is it always Quidditch," Hermione said, shaking her head slightly to which everyone laughed. A moment later, a smiling Madam Rosmerta came swiftly to the table. Time had been kind to her, though she did carry a few lines of extra stress, no doubt lines that all of them carried. Hands on her hips, she surveyed the table of professors.

"What can I get you all?" asked the loved proprietor of the Three Broomsticks. "Something new or the usual."

"Rosmerta, you know me too well to ask that," Oliver said, leaning back in his seat and grinning.

Rosmerta laughed. "Too true, Oliver, but I thought I might as well ask the others what they'd like before getting you your typical glass of firewhiskey." She looked around the table, eyes twinkling as Oliver laughed softly.

"I'd love a Gillywater, Rosmerta," said Hermione, smiling from her seat beside Harry.

"You're turning into McGonagall there, Granger," Rosmerta said, grinning before turning to look at Harry, Neville, and Edmund.

"I'll have a whiskey on the rocks if you don't mind," Edmund said.

"I'll have the same as Hermione," Neville said, back to picking the dirt under his nails absently.

"Some of the red current rum, please," Harry said, smiling up at the hostess. Smiling Rosmerta bade them a quick farewell and left the table to fetch the drinks. Turning to one another, they chatted for a while before their drinks were brought, served, and tasted.

"This remind me of being back in school," Oliver said, leaning back in his chair and grinning at the memories.

"Except for the fact that you're drinking firewhiskey and not butterbeer," Hermione pointed out.

"Well, yeah, there's that," Oliver said, shrugging. "But I half expect to see Flitwick, or Hagrid, or one of the old crowd stroll in and call over to the bar."

"So much as changed," Neville remarked, hands around his glass of gillywater.

"Still is changing," Edmund added, taking a sip of his whiskey. "We still don't know who the new Potions teacher is."

"Wonder who it is," Neville said, leaning back and looking around at the others. "McGonagall told me to be as polite as possible."

"She told us the same," Harry said, gesturing to himself and Hermione.

"Really?" Edmund said, eyes questioning. "She didn't tell me anything like that. Just said he'd be getting here tonight."

Harry frowned. "Must have been someone we knew pretty well then if she's singling us out."

"Or you're being paranoid and she just knows you guys to be kinda volatile," Oliver pointed out, swirling his firewhiskey. "I mean, really," he said in response to their faces.

"So who do you think it is then," Hermione said. "I mean, we probably know them if she's telling us all of this."

"Maybe it's a Slytherin," Neville suggested.

"It's a potions teacher, he's probably going to be a Slytherin," Harry said, the taste of his red current rum lingering in his mouth pleasantly.

"And this is what I was referring to," Oliver said, gesturing to Harry with his glass and smirking.

"I'm just saying its more probable than, say, a Gryffindor teaching potions," Harry said, putting up his hands in mock defense.

"And the fact that I was the best in our class has no significance," Hermione asked him, raising her eyebrows.

"You're an exception," Harry said, giving her a pointed look. "You were the best in all of our classes." Neville and Hermione laughed.

"Anyone have any news on the new headmaster?" Neville asked, round face glancing around. "She mentioned talking to the governors before we left. Wonder if she's chosen them already."

Harry shifted slightly in his seat, fortunately unnoticed.

"I haven't heard anything," Oliver said, taking another swig of his firewhiskey. "It'll probably be some grand figure though. Look at Durmstrang."

"Krum was a perfectly able student," Hermione interjected, giving Oliver a look. "He was well suited for Headmaster of that school." Oliver held up his hands in concession. "Besides, anyone with an ounce of decency is better than Karkaroff."

"So, what, McGonagall's going to go up to some once famous bloke and say 'wanna be the headmaster' and be done with it?" Oliver said skeptically. "Let's be realistic here."

"Are you suggesting it's going to be one of us or something?" Edmund said, tone disbelieving.

"Could be anyone of importance," Oliver said, shrugging. "Hogwarts, Ministry, anyone's game."

"Speaking of the Ministry," Edmund said, leaning forward. "They've got some nasty dealings right now. Something to do with this new youth group causing trouble with Muggles. Nothing too serious fortunately."

"What kind of trouble?" Hermione asked seriously. "Not the same sort of thing as-"

"No," Edmund said, shaking his head. "It's nothing as serious as the times before and during the war, but it's a lot more than Muggle baiting. And to top it off, the Muggles are beginning to get restless." He took a sip of his whiskey. "Seems they've got real observant since You-Know-Who's defeat."

Harry shifted again. It had been ten years but it still made him uncomfortable. "Are these groups likely to be anything tied to a larger organization?" he asked. Hermione glanced at him.

"They don't know yet, but they're more worried about the Muggles right now than the wizards causing the trouble," Edmund said. "Apparently the new Prime Minister isn't nearly as easy to deal with as before, seems to think that we think we're above them."

"But that's absurd," Hermione said, leaning forward.

"No, it's not Hermione," Harry said, turning to his long time friend. "Think about it. Wizards have been putting themselves above Muggles for a long time. Look at the Malfoys. Look at Voldemort."

"We call them Muggles for Merlin's sake," Edmund added. "It's like we refer to them as a whole new species."

"And that's what's causing this trouble?" Neville clarified, glass now empty in front of him and fingers back under his nails. "This sort of idealism?"

"Something like that," Edmund said, nodding.

"I just hope they get it rounded up soon," Oliver said, downing the last of his firewhiskey. "The last thing we need is something like this. We're still getting over the last war."

Everyone was silent for a moment, finishing their drinks. Harry tried to keep the small feeling in his stomach down.

"It's getting late," Neville commented, pushing his chair back with a great scraping sound. "We should be getting back to the castle."

"Prepare for tomorrow," Harry added, standing as well and grinning as he grabbed his cloak. They swiftly paid for their drinks and left into the cool night air once again, a light snow beginning to fall in late afternoon air. Harry hadn't realized they had been out for so long.

Edmund and Oliver too up the front, discussing the students and classes for the following day with Neville, Hermione and Harry bringing up the rear.

"I can't believe we've got those groups going around just after the war," Neville said, hands in his pockets as he walked.

"I just hope it's not more death eaters," Harry said, watching as the snow began to swirl around him.

"Oh you're not going to play Hero again," Hermione said, turning to him scowling. "You're war is over you know."

Harry blinked at her. "I never said I was a hero!" he said in surprise. "I was just making a comment."

"Oh come on Harry," Hermione said. "You've been a hero your whole life. I just don't want you to get wrapped up in it again."

"What makes you think I want to be wrapped up in it again?" Harry asked pointedly, giving her a stern look.

"If things get bad, people are going to want a savior again," Neville said matter of factly. "Probably the first person they're going to look to is you."

Harry frowned as Hermione and Neville continued to talk, walking back to the castle on the familiar path for so many years.

It was true. As soon as the war had ended and the last of the effects had faded, Harry had found himself in a normal position for the first time, married, working, with small children and living a relatively normal life. No paining scar, no reporters flocking to him, and, though a few people still would point him out on the street, the glory of the Boy Who Lived had faded as he became the Man Who Lived. Sure, his students all knew who he was (except the Muggleborns) but they didn't gape at him and whisper behind their hands as he walked by them. He was finally having something similar to a normal life, and he wanted to keep it that way.

Arriving at the castle, Harry bid goodbye to the others, waving slightly as he walked back to his chambers, thoughts drifting to the vacation. The smiling faces of his children and Teddy, Mrs. Weasley grinning and arguing with Fleur, Ron and Hermione sitting together on the couch and Ginny's words as she left. _Harry James Potter, if you denied that opportunity you are by far the stupidest man I've ever met. _Dropping his cloak on the rack by the door to his office and chambers, Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. The stack of graded essays and papers were still lying on his desk where he had left them, fire poker still lying awkwardly on the floor from when he had tripped. Absently, he moved about his office, mindlessly organizing and putting things back in order. It was a habit he had developed after Ginny had left with the kids. It kept him occupied. The sky slowly darkened outside though a few white flakes occasionally could still be seen floating down from the sky.

As he sat at his desk, looking over the lesson plans for the week and tapping a quill against his wrist, Harry was jolted from his musings by a sharp knock at the door. Hastily getting up and crossing to the door, Harry opened the door, wondering who would be calling now.

Professor McGonagall stood outside his door looking important and just as stern as ever. Trying not to look too surprised, Harry stepped back and gestured into his office. "Professor, I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting you. Please come in," Harry said, wishing silently he had thought to check for dirt on his couch after Neville had left.

"I wont be long, Potter," McGonagall said, a hint of a smile on her lips. "I just stopped by to pass on a bit of information and discuss a few things." Harry nodded to show he was paying attention. "Firstly, I would like to inform you that our new Potions teacher has arrived. I also wanted to see if you'd thought anymore about my proposal from the holidays."

Harry sighed. "I have, actually," Harry said, resisting the urge to run his hands through his hair again. "I don't quite have an answer yet but I have been thinking about it. I just need to think for a little longer before I give you a definite answer."

McGonagall nodded in comprehension. "Well then, before I leave Potter there is one more thing." Harry watched her patiently. "Since I do want to keep you the prime candidate for the position, I had mentioned I wanted you to work a little with the new professor. I'd like for you to go over things here with him, review the basics, be something of a guide for him while he's here." She gave him a stern look. "I expect you to be on your absolute best behavior."

"Of course, Professor," Harry said seriously. "I'll be sure to introduce myself first thing tomorrow before breakfast."

"That won't be necessary, Potter," McGonagall said curtly. "He expressed direct interest in speaking with you tonight. I trust you are not busy."

Harry's eyebrows flew up in surprise. "No, not at all."

"Excellent," McGonnagal said. "I'll check in with him and send him up immediately." She turned to leave, posture erect and regal. "And Potter," she added, turning briefly. "You are now a full representative of this school. Do not disappoint me." And she was gone.

Closing his door, Harry frowned to himself. The overall feeling that this new Potions teacher and he would not get along seemed to be reinforced over and over to him. He had never considered himself a disagreeable person. Why McGonagall was so insistent was beginning to make him worry.

Harry was cut short from his musings by a short rap on the door. It was so swift and quiet Harry almost might have missed it all together. Shaking his head in an attempt to relieve his stress and any preconditioning ideas, he strode to the door and grasped the knob. In one swift movement, he turned the brass knob and swung the door open, stepping up to face the inquisitor.

For a moment, Harry felt like he was back in his first year, staring across the Great Hall at all the faces around him, small, impressionable, and easy to befriend or hate. He was sitting between Ron and the other Hogwarts students, eleven years old, nervous and excited, looking across the tables and students at a table he would be taught to hate, staring at a boy with white blond hair, pale skin, and cool blue eyes.

Eleven years old again, just sorted by a talking hat, Harry stood holding the door to his office open as he looked into the face of Draco Malfoy.

"Hello, Potter."

A/N: I'm sorry! I know this is uuuuuuuber late but trust me, things have been mad unhappy on my end. I've not only be suffering massive writers block for both this and To Dance, but my brain has been constantly assaulted by plot bunnies and I can't get out of my head. I'm going to be working more on this once I get more time, some things out of my system, and have To Dance moving better. Please don't be angry, I'm moving this as swiftly as I can. Please remember to review!


	5. I've Got Bruises on my Knees From You

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, the books would have been much different and I wouldn't be applying to every job which helps me scrape by on rent and food. Thus, I own nothing, just a futon and rice cooker. **

_Italics: Flashbacks._

The Headmaster's Office.

Chapter 4. _"I've Got Bruises on my Knees From You."_

_It was chaos, had been for days, weeks, probably months for all Harry knew. Time tended to lost track of itself when nights all blended into the same nightmares where people you loved and hated died before your eyes over and over again. Eventually all that chaos, the constant discovery of more missing people never to be found and the capture of those who once so many trusted turned into a kind of numbness, the feeling of apathy which currently clouded Harry's brain like a heavy fog. _

_ Staring down at the Wizengamot as they went through trial after trial, families he had never known and faces he had grown to detest passing before his eyes had become so mundane that by the time Harry saw the familiar face of Lucius Malfoy chained and standing proud, hardly more than a spark of recognition or caring flashed when observing the family which had caused him so much pain. _

_ "Lucius Malfoy, charged with treason, committed and assisted murder, torture, confabulation and conspiracy has been brought today to answer for his crimes before the Wizengamot and justice of the MInistry of Magic. Do you deny these crimes?" The wizard speaking at the podium reminded Harry of a slightly taller and more affluent Professor Flitwick. _

_ Lucius Malfoy, head still raised proud despite the dirt and grime covering him, looked dead at Harry and said, without a waver to his voice, "No."_

_ The wizard residing raised bushy eyebrows and shook his head slightly. "Well, then in that case, the Wizengamot thus sentences you to life imprisonment in Azkaban." A gavel sounded and Narcissa, standing next to her husband, let out a sort of strangled sob. Malfoy, his once blond hair now dull and streaked with blood and muck, trembled slightly and kept his face to the floor, expression hidden. Lucius stood still as two ministry guards came and led him, shackled from the room. "Narcissa Malfoy, you have been charged with the same crimes as your husband. However, after prior testimony by one Harry James Potter regarding your assistance in the defer of He Who Must Not Be Named, you will be granted civil pardon and will live the remainder of your life under strict surveillance by the Ministry and are thus restricted from all use of magic." _

_ Ron, who was standing next to Harry, let out an angry sputtering sound and gripped the railing so hard his knuckles turned white. "You've got to be kidding me! Letting her off on that? Do they not understand that she killed people? _Killed _people!"_

_ "Ron, calm down," Hermione said, putting a hand against his back but looking displease all the same. Harry simply watched as Narcissa was led out of the room by more guards, leaving only her son in the room, trembling more than ever._

_ "Draco Malfoy," the head Wizard now said, causing the blond in the center of the room to seize up and remain motionless, head still averted to the ground. "You have been charged with treason against Wizarding law, torture, assisted and committed murder, and conspiracy. Do you deny these crimes?"_

_ A small sound was heard over the rustle of robes and papers in the room. _

_ "What was that, boy? Speak up!" the wizard said harshly, casting cold judgmental eyes on the slightly shivering boy below him. _

_ "I didn't kill anyone," Malfoy said, his voice barely audible and shaking considerably. _

_ "LIAR!" Ron roared from where he stood, almost launching himself from the seats they were in, his eyes blazing in anger. "You filthy little snake! You killed them with just as much sick enjoyment as You Know Who himself!" Hermione was wrestling with Ron, trying to keep him from throwing himself at the blond below them. _

_ Harry watched in numb haze as Malfoy finally raised his head, revealing a tired and scared face, streaked with tears and dirt, eyes desperately flashing and pleading. "I didn't kill anyone, I swear! They made me… they…" His voice cracked as his body suddenly shook horrifically and his legs buckled, a guard catching him roughly as he crumpled to the ground. _

_ "A nice display, young Malfoy, but one we have seen countless times over," the residing wizard said, looking back at his papers and scribbling something down. "You will be sentenced to Azkaban for two years and put on surveillance for the rest of your life." Malfoy gave a small hiccup as tears continued to pour down his face. He nodded. "However, this is only on account that you were a minor up until June of this year. If you violate any laws, any at all, you will be sentenced to Azkaban for the rest of your life. Is that clear?" Malfoy nodded, the guards hoisting him up a moment later as the gavel sounded and dragged him from the hall. _

_ Ron fumed beside Harry, spitting at the injustice as Hermione frowned. Harry watched as the blond he had hated for years was dragged away before his eyes, for once not feeling anything at all. _

Harry couldn't think.

"I'm pretty sure this is the part where you either say 'Hello' or, if we're going by tradition, 'shove off, Malfoy,' though I may be mistaken."

This couldn't really be happening.

"Or perhaps you've gone into shock. Is it really that delightful of a surprise your brain has gone into an overload of Oxytocin?"

Draco Malfoy, whom Harry had watched being led away in chains from the Wizengamot, was standing in front of his office door and greeting him as if they were old friends. Or at least acquaintances.

"Oh dear, has my stunning appearance broken something?"

Apparently Harry's brain required a short period of time before it could properly function when faced with such a dramatic shock as seeing his once arch enemy merely three feet in front of him. "YOU!" he spat out with a considerable amount of venom and incredulity.

"Actually, I believe my name is Malfoy, but if 'you' is easier, we can start there and build up to real names."

Harry grit his teeth in annoyance and frowned. Once, years ago, he would have whipped out his want and pointed it at the blond, protecting himself from whatever jinx or hex the pale boy had up his sleeve. But things were different now. Eleven years different and whipping out his wand was not only immature, but also much more dangerous. Years of fighting in a war had proven that a wand meant more than a simple Jelly Legs Jinx. "What the Hell are you doing here, Malfoy?" Harry demanded, his voice low as he felt his muscles tense in a fashion they hadn't done in over a decade.

Malfoy looked as if he was about make some snarky reply, but then something Harry didn't recognize passed over his face and his shoulders dropped slightly, a small sigh passing through his lips. "Look, I'm not here to goad you, fun and nostalgic as it may be," Malfoy said, his voice uncharacteristically tired and lacking it's prideful ring. "I'm here to talk."

"Oh, well, in that case bugger off," Harry said none too kindly, still frowning. "I'm expecting someone….." He trailed off, sudden realization dawning over him. "No." Malfoy simply looked at him, somewhat tiredly and in what could be mistaken as apologetically. "McGonnegal's out of her Goddamn mind!"

"I'd love to see her face if she were to hear you saying that," Malfoy said, grinning slightly. "But no, she's not."

"You're Slughorn's replacement?" Harry asked, still trying his best not to accept the fact that his arch rival was now going to be teaching along side him. And that he had to be nice to him.

Malfoy nodded.

Harry scowled. "And McGonnegal thinks I'm going to be all jolly and show you the ropes."

"If you please," Malfoy said, giving a slight curtsy. "I must say, being new to the area, I'm quite lost in this big castle."

"Go stuff yourself with frog spawn," Harry spat, backing up and making to slam his door in Malfoy's pale face.

"Wait!" Malfoy said, stepping forward swiftly and Harry paused at the desperate note in his voice, turning to the blond in slight surprise. Malfoy sighed and closed his mouth. "I'm sorry," he said, closing his eyes briefly. "I didn't intend for this conversation to go like this. Look, I just want to talk for a minute."

Harry studied Malfoy for a moment, frowning slightly. The blond pureblood had changed over the years. He was thinner than he had been while at school and his face had a few more lines, and his once perfectly set hair had lost some of its glamor. However, apart from that, the most shocking aspect of his appearance was his robes, which looked almost the same as the robes Harry had first seen Lupin wear back in third year on the Hogwarts Express. Harry looked back up at Malfoy's face, meeting cool blue eyes. Eyes which, unlike so many other times, finally shown with age and pain that Harry knew so well. Primarily because he saw the same eyes every time he looked in the mirror.

"Look at me and say that again," Harry said slowly, watching Malfoy closely. He didn't need to clarify what he meant.

Malfoy looked at him seriously, eyes boring into his own and mouth set in a determined line. "I'm sorry, Potter."

And for once, Harry believed him. For once, he believed the words that came out of Malfoy's mouth. The mouth could lie, but the eyes that bore into his own could not. Harry sighed, internally asking himself what in Merlin's name he was doing, and stepped aside, gesturing for Malfoy to enter his office.

"You're not going to kill me, are you?" Malfoy asked somewhat apprehensively. "I'm pretty sure no one would really come looking for Draco Malfoy in Harry Potter's closet. And I'm pretty sure you don't need any more skeletons in there as it is."

"Either get in and sit your pale arse down or bugger off," Harry snapped, losing his patience. Malfoy shut his mouth appropriately and quickly brushed past Harry with a slight bow of the head and seated himself on Harry's small sofa, ironically in Neville's favorite spot.

Harry found himself smiling despite himself. "That's Neville's favorite spot, in case you didn't notice the dirt," he said, waiting Malfoy for a reaction.

"He and I have never been closer before," Malfoy said with somewhat overdramatic sentiment, placing a hand compassionately on the fabric and rubbing it affectionately. In an instant he dropped the show and sighed, turning to Harry. "Sorry, I didn't come here to be a prat, though I do have to say, just seeing your face is like falling back into old times." Harry scowled darkly. Malfoy sucked in a breathe. "Wrong thing to say."

"You wanted to talk, so talk," Harry said brusquely, beginning to regret his decision to let Malfoy stay and talk. "I have half a mind to physically throw you from my office, by either the door or window, it's up to you."

Malfoy seemed to take that into consideration for a moment. "Well, since I already apologized, there's that out of the way. But what I really want to do is not fight, not go back to the old days, and certainly not have you misunderstand." Harry remained quiet, waiting for Malfoy to continue. The blond sighed and ran a hand over his face, a gesture that was about as uncharacteristic as it could get. "I know it sounds like bollocks, but a lot can change in eleven years. People get married, have kids, rot in prisons, watch families drift apart, grow up and experience things which change them entirely."

"Are you trying to tell me you've changed?" Harry said, skeptically raising an eyebrow at the blond.

Malfoy looked at him dead in the face. "I was in Azkaban for two years. I lived in that desolate hell hole for two years for being blackmailed and threatened by one of the darkest wizards of our time to lie, curse, and do things that still have me waking up in the middle of the night screaming. No, Potter, I didn't enjoy serving You Know Who," Malfoy added, cutting off Harry's words before he had a chance to open his mouth. "I was a stupid spoilt little rich child in school, raised by elitist parents who thought more about their heritage than their morals. And I, like the little prat I was, was the perfect byproduct. I didn't realize how stupid I had been until I was the one feeling the agonizing pain of a dark mark signaling that He wanted to see me, until I found out what it is like to be under the cruciatis curse for insolence, until I watched someone die in front of my eyes."

As if just talking about it made him cold, Malfoy briefly rubbed at his arms, curling slightly into himself on the couch. "By the time I realized what I'd got myself into, it was a matter of my life or my families life, and I wasn't about to forfeit either. I know," Malfoy said, once more cutting off Harry before he could interject. "It was horribly selfish and cowardly and all sorts of other non-Gryffindor things, but when have I ever been any sort of courageous hero like you or any of your friends." He smiled bitterly. Harry simply sat and listened.

"Then it all ended and you were the shining hero and my family had done what I hadn't done and helped you get rid of the snake faced bastard. My mother got off and was confined to the mansion until either I got out or my father died, which ever came first and provided a proper Malfoy heir to deal with the magical inheritance and issues regarding it." He scoffed. "However, apparently my dear mother couldn't handle with waiting for one of us to fulfill our end of the bargain and simply couldn't abide living without magic. I got a few letters from her, all talking how degrading it was to be less magically inclined than a house elf and basically a common muggle." Malfoy's eyes went slightly unfocused and his expression went slightly thoughtful.

"The last letter from her went on and on about how it was impossible to work matches properly and that oil lamps were the most ridiculous muggle invention she'd ever come across." His eyes focused back on Harry. "She died two months before I got out." Harry said nothing, simply watched the blond as he spoke, the others voice becoming almost hollow as he spoke, as if this was his first time telling anyone about this. "According to the Ministry official who came and told me in Azkaban it was an accident, that she had tripped down the stairs, but I'm not an idiot. My mother was just waiting for an excuse to off herself after two years of magic depravation."

Harry shifting slightly in his own chair, watching Malfoy as he spoke.

"I will say I was thankful for those years in prison. They were, aside from the dementors and the death eaters, a time for me to finally think, without the influence of my parents and all the propaganda and everything." Malfoy smiled bitterly and looked down at the floor, his hands coming to clasp gently in front of him. "When all you have to occupy your mind is misery and despair, you'd be surprised at how productive the mind is at finding other topics to occupy itself with. So, while most people there spent their time losing their minds or plotting revenge, I sat and thought and reflected and basically realized what a shit I'd been my whole life." He sniffed a laugh and looked up at Harry. "Amazing what a cold damp cell will do for self perspective."

"So, what, you left Azkaban a changed man and have been a do-gooder ever since?" Harry asked somewhat derisively.

Malfoy smirked. "Aw, now, don't get carried away. I haven't finished my story yet, and trust me, there's more." Harry pressed his mouth together and nodded, indicating to Malfoy to continue. Malfoy inclined his head slightly. "About a week after I got out of Azkaban a Ministry official visited the manor inquiring about my affairs. It was a fun little visit where I found out that all of my families money had been either used in the Dark Lords efforts or seized by the Ministry to use in reconstruction, the manor itself actually needing to be sold to cover some of the debts, leaving me just enough money to find a small flat and live under the sharp eye of the Ministry for the rest of my life." A twisted and cruel smile wound across Malfoy's face. "I also found out about my parents last will and testament, something they set up when I was just a wee little thing to ensure that I kept with tradition."

Harry frowned. "I don't understand."

Malfoy's smile stretched unpleasantly. "I met my darling fiance."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "Your what?"

Malfoy's eyebrow rose and he smirked. "A fiance, Potter. You know, it's a term for the person you ask to marry you. It's a step further than just boyfriend or girlfriend but not as binding as husband or wife. Those ones are legal while you can call off an engagement. Or did you and the little Weasley just skip the whole process and go straight to the 'I Do's'?"

Harry was not amused and made sure his expression conveyed as such. Malfoy sighed. "Sorry, I couldn't resist. You did kind of invite that one on yourself though."

Harry bit the inside of his cheek. "So, you have a wife then."

"Had," said Malfoy, the cruel and bitter smile once more stretched over his features and his eyes turned cold. "Such a lovely little thing she was and about as horrid as she was beautiful. I had to admit, Astoria Greengrass certainly fit the pureblood qualifications: entitled, haughty, and a pain in the ass. However, since it was in the will and her parents were in a contract with my still living father, we unenthusiastically got married and lived together just outside of London."

"Congratulations," Harry said dryly.

Malfoy smiled dryly. "It didn't really last, especially when the real magnitude of my families fall from grace got out and my lovely wife basically turned hostile on me and accused me of complete fabrication concerning our marriage. Basically the woman hated everything and wasted no time in leaving me as soon as possible." He stared out the window for a few moments, as if contemplating. "I believe she's somewhere in France at the moment, cavorting with a variety of beautiful young Frenchmen and shaming her parents. She basically took all the savings I managed to scrape at a desk job and left me and our son to fend for ourselves. I'm pretty sure the woman is only capable of loving two things: herself and money."

"You pure bloods sure do know how to pick 'em," Harry couldn't help but say, feeling his mouth quirk despite himself.

"Oh we're quite the cavaliers," Malfoy drawled, rolling his gaze back to Harry.

"Indeed," Harry said, once more taking in Malfoy's somewhat bedraggled appearance and, to his own surprise, realizing exactly what it represented.

"So, about four years ago, I found myself single all over again with a two year old and all my savings gone to the woman I didn't want to marry in the first place." Malfoy's face seemed to grow tired just at talking about it, his face once more gaining the lines Harry had seen upon first observation. "We lived fairly well, my son and I. The beginning was a little rough but we built up and were doing alright, lying low and avoiding as much lingering negativity around the post-war stigma of once being a death eater family as possible." Malfoy paused and a dark shadow passed over his face.

"Then I got a letter from Azkaban telling me my father had gone mad and managed to, in a fit of some insanity, lodge his head between his cell's bars and, in his frenzy to free himself, broken his neck."

Harry watched in silence as Malfoy simply stared at what could have been the wall or just nothing at all. Malfoy was quiet for quite a long time. In some part of Harry's mind, a voice questioned why he was listening to the blond's story at all. However, there was something about the blond's appearance, the sincerity in his voice and, most of all, his eyes which reflected all that he was saying that kept Harry listening.

Malfoy suddenly smiled and chuckled slightly, eyes turning back to Harry. "For once I can say with absolute confidence you and I have something in common, Potter," he said, voice falsely happy. "Well, aside from flying ability." He laughed a little to himself before looking back up at Harry. "We're both orphans now."

Harry stared at him, not entirely sure how to respond to that statement. Malfoy proceeded to watch his hands as his fingers picked at each other. "I read about that in the paper," Harry said softly, remembering the article in the Daily Prophet mentioning the death of Lucius Malfoy that he had seen about a year ago.

"Yeah, my upstanding father finally kicked it," Malfoy said bitterly, his voice holding very little remorse. He looked up at Harry, who couldn't help but feel slightly shocked at the blond's tone. "My father and mother died because of their arrogance and nearly had me killed for the same reason. They really did me no favors in life, aside from my mother saving my skin which she had sentenced to death in the first place."

"Strong family bonds then," Harry said.

"Iron clad," Malfoy said, nodding and smirking slightly. "See, isn't this fun? I love bantering. It's really too bad you were shit at it back during school. That would have been a right old tea party of a time if we bantered in Potions rather than blow up cauldrons."

"So, you're here, what, to tell me your sob story and make me pity you then?" Harry asked, selectively choosing not to reply to the blond and instead getting to the point.

"No," Malfoy said, face losing some of the glow it had gained as he talked about banter. "I'm here because the job I had kicked me out in the fall and I need a job, Potter." His expression turned serious and he leaned forward to Harry, as if to make sure his point got across loud and clear. "I'm not here to bother you, to be a prat and make jokes. I'm here because I need a job so I can take care of my son and bring him up to never be like I was. I'm here because I don't want us fighting and at each other's throats all the time. I'm here because I want to call a truce so we can start off from scratch."

Harry quirked a smile. "A little late to be calling truces, Malfoy."

Malfoy snorted. "We both have our grudges and the scars to prove it, but that's not the point." His face returned to composure and he fixed Harry with a look so serious Harry nearly did a double take. "I want us to leave the past behind so we can behave like proper adults and not bring up old wounds that will do nothing but hurt and burn us."

Harry studied Malfoy for a good long moment. "That's it," he clarified. "We act like civilized adults and forget the hideous relationship we had in school and all the horror of the war and the wrong we did each other."

Malfoy's eyes locked with his own. "Yes."

Harry sighed. "This isn't going to be easy."

"I know."

"I still don't trust you," Harry added.

"I know."

"And I still think you're a slimy git."

Malfoy's mouth quirked. "Well then, it's fitting I'll be taking the Potions position then. I can't see a slimy git doing a good job with Divination. All that incense would stick to the grease." Harry burst out laughing in spite of himself. "But in all seriousness, I am here because I need a job and McGonnegal has been kind enough to accept me to work here. You don't have to trust me, you don't have to like me, I just ask that we work together without trouble. If you feel I'm suspicious or being sneaky or whatever, you can bring an enquiry if you like." Malfoy grimaced. "Though, honestly, I'd rather have Hagrid's cooking than that."

Malfoy looked up at Harry, his face unguarded and waiting, the patience written across his features foreign and slightly disconcerting to Harry. "So, civil," Harry said, studying the blond once more before returning to those eyes.

"Yes, though I could provide a large variety of other interesting terms we could use. Cordial, well-mannered, un-hostile, and affable come to mind though I'm sure there are many more."

"I feel like there's a catch," Harry said, folding his arms across his chest.

Malfoy sat back on the couch. "Well, I was thinking you could break the news to Granger and Weasley before they try to behead me, but I won't ask too much, seeing as I'm pretty sure as soon as Weasley finds out I'm working here, he'll send in a battalion of gingers intent on my blood." Harry scowled. "Sorry. Some old habits die harder than others."

"Is that the catch then? I tell Ron and Hermione?" Harry said, frowning.

"Well, it's either that or we set up play dates and sleep overs so we can bond about our new found commonality and make sure our children become best of friends. And I simply demand smores," Malfoy said, flapping a hand about at the last sentence and smirking at Harry.

"Right then," Harry said, not responding to Malfoy's ploy. "So, the Great Malfoy empire has fallen then."

Malfoy smiled a small tired smile as he stood up from the couch. "You should know better than anyone that nothing is forever," he said, his eyes locking with Harry's for a moment before he turned and swept from the office, closing the door with a quiet click, leaving Harry to think about the man who had once been the boy he called his enemy.

A/N: I know I said this was on Hiatus but honestly, I needed to write and needed to get back into my stories. Typically I write something new but considering I've done that so many times I just wanted to get back to the good old stuff. Plus, I loved this story when I started it and really just want to continue with it. I'll keep updating things as I can but seeing as I am entering the job hunting world and pretending to be an adult, that may be variable. P.S For those who figured it was Malfoy who was the new Potions teacher, have yourself a cookie. :D


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